


it's a memory

by Cappybara



Category: Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense, Hellboy (Comics)
Genre: Background Femslash, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, POC Langdon Caul
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 18:26:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7812451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cappybara/pseuds/Cappybara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I’ve been along the road, now the road is easy</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Cause I no longer travel on my own</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Moving with the tide</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Flowing with the seaweed</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Dancing in the air and with the flow.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's a memory

**Author's Note:**

> guess who has gay fucking feelings about monsters it's Me 
> 
> this is a canon compliant story about how ben and abe became vague friends and then became good friends and then became boyfriends. also kate and liz have been dating for like two years now, and also roger actually is important and not a throwaway character. johann is bad 
> 
> starts at BPRD: The Dead and will hopefully go all the way to BPRD Hell on Earth: The Long Death. 
> 
> title and description is from the fred falke song of the same name.

_ There’s one missing, _ Ben thinks. He’d leafed through the files Manning handed him on the members of his new squad, and three of them were sitting in the room before him, lit by the buttery light of the bulb overhead and the faintest flickers of the footage playing on the projector. From the corner of his eye, he sees a younger Ben Daimio slice his way out of a body bag. 

They haven’t noticed him yet, standing outside the conference room. Sherman’s gotten out of her seat, arguing with Manning, prodding a pale finger into his suit. The ghost and the homunculus are still seated, seemingly content to just watch Sherman go. The homunculus’s pupils, lit gold in black eyes, are focused on her, craggy face set into a moue of concentration. Kraus could be looking anywhere for all Daimio knows, the plexiglass of the suit’s head betraying nothing. 

There’s a conspicuous lack of amphibian in the room. Abe Sapien, one of the longest serving members of this team after Hellboy, isn’t here. Manning said that he was off on a fact-finding mission with Kate Corrigan, field director, but he’d heavily alluded that Sapien wouldn’t be back. Ben hopes he will be back. Replacing Sapien wouldn’t exactly endear him to the rest. Hell, it seems Sherman already doesn’t like him.

“That’s your idea of stability?” she scoffs. “Bring in Captain Zombie?”

Manning dodges the question. “He’s not a zombie, Liz. He had an accident.” Government types love their euphemisms, and Sherman calls him out on it. 

“An accident? They don’t put you in a body bag if you have an accident, Tom. He was dead.” 

“Yeah, but only for three days.” Ben says, walking in. He doesn’t care to hear more of Manning’s windbagging, wants to start getting on good terms with his new team--at least, the ones present. There’ll be time to meet the fish man later.

* * *

 Later is much, much later, after the move to their new base, an encounter with a deranged German turned ‘angel’, and a jar with a horrifyingly familiar face. He’d sequestered the specimen jar with the Noh monkey into his room. Ben didn’t want to think about it, and he was grateful for the distraction of Corrigan and Sapien’s return. 

He’s there waiting for them, along with the rest. Sherman still doesn’t like him much, won’t look at him as she chews on a piece of nicotine gum. Roger, on the other hand, has taken to following him around the base. He’d even gone to the armory and started carrying a gun, just as Daimio told him to. Kraus is, as ever, a mystery. He’s been spending a lot of time looking through the sub-basement and, if anything, grown more cryptic. 

The plane touches down. Kate comes out first, wearing a thick raincoat and a worried expression. Sapien is following her. It’s the first glimpse Ben’s seen of the man in real life. Pictures don’t capture him accurately. His skin is a little more vibrant in hue, his gills shine translucently, and Ben’s never seen a picture showing just how burdened and tired Abe Sapien looks. Even in an alien face, Ben sees something weighing heavily on him.  

With Sapien trailing a little further behind, Kate hustles up to them. “Is everything alright?” she asks, addressing Liz, putting a hand on her arm. Liz’s expression finally softens for the first time this morning.

“We’re fine, Kate. Everything’s under control except for the cleanup of all the bugs still crawling around on the lower floors. You didn’t miss much.” 

Kate doesn’t look convinced, sending her a quirk of her eyebrows that says,  _ We’ll be talking later. _ She turns to Ben and sticks out a hand. “Hello, Captain Daimio. I’m Kate Corrigan, and this is Abe. Sorry we weren’t here sooner, but at least you’ve been introduced to the kind of things we work with.” Ben shakes her hand--she’s got a good strong grip.

“Call me Ben. I’m glad to see both of you. It’s been two damn wild days here, that’s for sure.” 

 He extends a hand out to Sapien. Abe’s hand is cool, but not slimy. It’s very smooth, like shaking a plastic hand. “Pleasure to meet you.” Sapien says, but his face doesn’t change at all. It’s not the most electrifying of first meetings, but there’s something about Abe, a deep well of emotion dwelling in the pools of his opaque blue eyes.

* * *

When the captain introduces himself, Abe is hit with another pang of loss.  _ He reminds me of Hellboy, _ he thinks instantly. 

There’s not much similarity physically. Daimio is shorter than Abe, dressed in a grey collared canvas jacket and heavy boots. His face is crossed all over with lines and marred on the right and his jaw with a massive, dull red scar. When he turns his head to greet Kate, Abe can see his gums and sharp white teeth peeking out from the ruined skin.

His stance though. Straight shoulders, hands kept loosely at his sides. A man at home in the utilitarian, military space of the new Colorado base. Hellboy had never lost some habits from his upbringing on an Air Force base. And the weathered face reminds him of Hellboy too. It’s a face that has seen things unimaginable, has dealt with things no ordinary person could even comprehend..

It’s almost a slap in the face. Another reminder of how much Abe has lost, fresh from grieving over Edith. There’s a frame with her picture in it inside his bag. Kate had left him alone on the flight, for which he was grateful. But facing Daimio and remembering Hellboy, Abe sinks deeper into despair.  _ They’ve replaced him already, but don’t they know he can’t be?  _

Abe doesn’t want to be here, talking about his ‘mission’ in Littleport. He pushes past all of them, ignoring Liz’s hand at his elbow, and walks into the hubbub of the base.

And it is a base now, with none of the lived-in hominess of Connecticut. Grey, echoing, hallways crowded with machinery and jackbooted personnel. Abe is out of his depth, rocked by too many changes. Too much loss. The people, the walls, the cold mountain wind drying his skin, they’re all unfamiliar.

Someone stands next to him. The shine of Liz’s red hair brings him back to reality. “You okay?” she asks. “Here. Let me take you to your room. The new place is big as hell and easy to get lost in.” She leads the way through the crowd, which parts for her as it always does. Even without the threat of flames, Liz has a presence, and it pulls Abe with her to quieter hallways. The walls are still barren concrete though. Abe misses the worn, out-of-fashion wallpaper and crooked framed newspapers that used to bracket his room. Liz fishes around in her pocket for a key and hands it to him. It takes a couple of tries for him to get it in the lock, and he can feel her gaze on him acutely.

He finally gets it open, but before he steps in, Liz says, “Take care of yourself, Abe. I’m here to talk whenever you need to.” Abe doesn’t trust himself to speak. He dips his head in an aborted nod, not meeting her golden eyes, and slips into the darkness of his room.

It’s far too big, and dark, lit eerily by the bubbling tank in the corner. Even that’s new. Abe’s things are boxed up in the corner. Some of the boxes are still curled up and water-stained, and Abe remembers that they all got sprayed when he got that message from Liz. He’d been thinking about quitting then, too. 

It’s all too much to handle, too much unfamiliarity and yet too many familiar ghosts. He unpacks. Shirt, jacket, pants, a red plaid robe that reminded him of Edith’s scarf. And the picture. Abe puts the frame on his desk. It’s the only thing on there. He might keep it that way. 

  
Abe strips and steps into the cold water of his tank. Underwater, everything is muffled and silent. Calm. Nothing like the storm that rocked Littlepoint. Nothing like the waves crashing against the rocks, taking Edith with them. He closes his eyes and does not sleep. 


End file.
